Next (2007 film)

Here's the thing about the future. Every time you look at, it changes — because you looked at it — and that changes everything else.

Next is a 2007 film, about a stage magician, Cris Johnson, who actually perceives and experiences events in his own potential futures, but usually no more than two minutes before they could occur. It is very loosely based on the science fiction short story The Golden Man by Philip K. Dick.

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You've probably seen a lot of those shows — mentalists, magicians, illusionists. You'd be shocked to know that sometimes — not often, but sometimes — it's the real deal. Masquerading as an act. Hiding behind a few fifty dollar tricks. Hiding in plain sight. Because if the magician doesn't do that, the alternative is impossible for others to live with. Anyway, Wednesday night at the Back Page doesn't pay very well, so I gamble. But I don't play against other people, only against the house. So, no mega-jackpots, no long shots. The idea is to go unnoticed. That way I can keep coming back. I'm not a god. I can't see everyone's future, only my own. And only within two minutes. Except for when I saw her.

Here's the thing about the future. Every time you look at, it changes — because you looked at it — and that changes everything else.

Don’t drink that! It's drugged. Oh God. I don’t know what I'm doing. I have no idea what I'm doing. Some federal agent came up to me and said that you were a delusional sociopath, and showed me this tape — so maybe you are. But I don’t want to believe that. I don’t think I can believe that. And she also said that if you ran, they would shoot you. So I should drug you instead. Even if what they said is true, I don't want you to die. I don't want you to die.

Callie Ferris: I'm sure you know why I'm here. Because you're the man who knows what I'm going to do before I do it, right?

Cris Johnson: [puzzled a moment by her assertion] Oh — the show. Right. Right! I saw you there. Wonderful. You like magic tricks.

Callie: Yeah. Yeah, I do like your magic tricks, clairvoyance… whatever you're calling it.Let's talk about something hard. A stolen nuclear munition is being smuggled into the United States, or may, in fact, already be here. I want you to look ahead and tell me where it's going to be deployed.

Cris: Uh... I think you've got the wrong guy. It's a magic act.

Callie: You going to stick with that story? Because millions of lives are at risk and you could, maybe, prevent a major catastrophe. On a practical note: we're standing in front of a stolen vehicle and you're wanted for assault involving a weapon at the casino.

Cris: All right — that was an accident. He had a gun. He was going to shoot two people.

Callie: Yeah? How'd you know that? No good deed goes unpunished, does it? I can fix your legal problems, buddy, but you've got to step up. Otherwise, your next magic show is going to be at Folsom State Prison.

Cris: It's ironic, but people like you, who try to "help", have been torturing me, in the full sense of the word, since I was three years old. What did they call it? Oh, yeah. Observed play therapy. Featuring, the marathon 36-hour, can-you-guess-the-next-flash-card game. So, please, leave me alone and let me live some semblance of a normal life.

Callie: I'd love to indulge your feelings, but I am dealing with a slightly larger picture right now. Now you can exercise your responsibility to help your fellow man or I will exercise that responsibility for you.

Cris: It's amazing isn't it? I end up in a diner where you are, and were both headed in the same direction.

Cris: Because I can't. I can only give them a two minute head start. And that's if my life is personally involved.

Liz: But with me you can see further.

Cris: Yeah. But they don't know that. [suddenly moves back, takes an envelope from his jacket] There's almost ten thousand dollars in this envelope. They know about you. You need to get away from here.

Cris: You're going to be okay Liz.

Mr. Smith: Back off!

Cris: I've seen every possible ending here. None of them are good for you.

Mr. Smith: I'll take my chances. One more step, fortuneteller, and it definitely won't be good for you.

Cris: [steps forward through multiple manifestations of experiential awareness of potential events, till Smith's gun is empty]You have one way out of this.[Smith holds up the detonator; Ferris shoots it out of his hand]That wasn't it.

Cris: There's something I've got to do. I can't put it off any longer.

Liz: Are you coming back?

Cris: Yeah. It might be a week, or a month. But if you can wait, I'll find you.